


So show me

by einteufelimengelskreis



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bottom Warren, Exhibitionism, M/M, Oral Sex, Tail Kink, but generally everything was beautiful (especially Warren) and nothing hurt, collars and restrain references, dirty angelic showman, is tailing an equivalent of fingering?, tail kink much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7505869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/einteufelimengelskreis/pseuds/einteufelimengelskreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warren knows that Kurt likes to watch.<br/>To watch him, precisely speaking.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	So show me

**Author's Note:**

> In my head it takes place in the 90s, because my head said so.  
> They're older, together for a long time, yet still being able to have thrilling sex. Because relationship goals.  
>   
> My tail kink is official, I guess.  
> My soft spot for a bottom Warren too.

Warren knows that Kurt likes to watch.  
To watch him, precisely speaking.  
And it's not that Warren does anything on purpose. He just likes to confirm his opinion.  
Like this time, when he leaves the bathroom, almost straight from the shower, with slightly wet hair and probably a few drops of water still here and there on his chest, back and shoulders, wearing nothing but a pair of black, perfectly fitting, faux leather pants.  
He smirks to himself when he catches a glimpse of Kurt's tail twitching suddenly – the only sign of his agitation, when he doesn't seem to even lift his head from above the book he's reading, curled up comfortably on the bed. A subtle sign, but for Warren clear enough, encouraging him to push the button harder. To let the show go on.  
He goes through the room, swaying his hips, very well aware of how he looks in the shiny black fabric, emphasizing both the lines of his body and the brightness of his complexion.  
Moreover it feels nice, it's soft and really close to his skin, rubbing against it lightly with every move and step. Especially that Warren decided not to put any underwear on. And considering how tight the pants are, he knows it's obvious to notice.  
He stops in front of the closet, opens it and stretches himself, tilting his head as if studying the contents, but actually he strikes a pose. He has entered the scene and is ready to put himself on display. To offer himself. To tempt.  
And he can't refrain from smiling all the time at the thought of Kurt's eyes shifting over his back and arms, and of course his wings. No, he can't be sure of the look. But he literally feels it. Studying the game of the muscles contrasted with the softness of the feathers, tracing the line of his spine, going down to the dimples in the base of his back and then even lower...  
He slowly bends over.  
A silent yet unmistakeble gasp, heared from the bed, makes him tremble with satisfaction. And anticipation. Because he already feels turned on and he doesn't intend to finish the show too early.  
Because, to be honest, Warren likes to be watched.  
To be watched by Kurt, precisely speaking.  
To get the feeling of being locked in someones look, _his_ look, subjected to it, completely submitted.  
Exposed. Even examined. Also admired, but even more owned by it.  
He straightens up, holding a wide leather belt with a metal buckle and he turns to Kurt a little, so he can see Warren putting it around, just below the hip bones, perfectly visible from above the low-waist pants. The click of the buckle seems to sound particularly clearly in the air slowly being filled up with unavoidable tension.  
Kurt has to clear his throat before he asks:  
"So... Where were you going, you said?"  
Warren shoots him a look.  
He is still sitting on the bed, or rather half-lying, with his head leaning on the hand, curled up legs and the tail swinging in the air with aparent laziness, but they both know it's a symptom of him growing... impatient.  
"To a concert. Nine Inch Nails. I told you to go with me, but it's not your type of music, as far as I remember?"  
"Indeed," Kurt seems to be absorbed by the book again, but Warren is curious, when was the last time he turned a page. "Not my type. Of music."  
"You're missing a lot," he says nonchalantly, taking from the closet a wide, black, sleeveless shirt.  
Oh, is it a flash of disappointment in the red eyes?  
He teases for a moment, watching the shirt, as if pondering if it is proper or not, and finally deciding to simply hang it on the chair.  
Is it a satisfied half-smile this time?  
Warren feels shivers going down his spine and a pleasant warmness gathering in his underbelly, when he notices, that Kurt finally puts away the book and starts to observe him openely.  
He withstands his look and comes to the desk, reaches to the drawer and takes out an eye-liner.  
He bends one leg and rests it on the chair, leaning over the top of the desk, in front of a mirror hanging above it. The fabric feels more and more tight and the cold buckle, digging into his skin, doesn't help at all. It brings thoughts of being restrained, kept in one place, so he cannot escape, cannot avoid being looked at.  
He concentrates so much on underlining his eyes straightly, that only after a while he realizes, he started to involuntary moving his hips, sub-conscioussly searching for that pleasurable rubbing, as well as spreading wider his wings, a usual sign of him being excited. The thought that Kurt has been probably watching him the whole time, makes him bite on his lip to avoid groaning out loud and to clench his fingers on the edge of the desk to stop them from wandering between his legs.  
He looks in the mirror, catches a reflection of Kurt and he can no longer hold a moan back.  
The another man has completely abandoned his reading and is now crouching on the bed, his tail wriggling nervously and his eyes fixed in Warren with feverish, devouring attention.  
Warren straightens up slowly, breathing deeply and keeping an eye on Kurt's reflection all the time. He reaches to the box with all his jewelry and accessories and takes a studded collar.  
The red eyes flicker, following Warren's fingers, buckling it up on the back of his neck.  
Warren doesn't even manage to lower his arms when he can see Kurt disappearing from the bed in a cloud of smoke, only to turn up just behind him.  
He groans loudly when Kurt's tails wraps around him tightly, pulling him closer, and a large, clawed hand covers his hardened penis.  
"You like to provoke so much, don't you?" Kurt's voice is hoarse, when he whispers to his ear and kisses it lightly, with the tip of his tongue fleetingly moving over it, only to go down, to his neck, realeasing a thousands of shivers over the blond's body.  
Warren breathes loudly, tilting his head to expose himself more under Kurt's kisses and all that time moving frantically between his lover's hand and body. He can feel very well that Kurt is already aroused and he can't decide which contact he's more thirsty of – the firm, strong hand between his legs or Kurt's erection on his ass. He writhes, moaning louder and louder, spreading his wings uncontrollably so he knockes something down, but he couldn't care less. He knows, that Kurt loves to see his wings in their full glory.  
And he's right, because he hear him purring with delight and the tail's grip gets suddenly tighter with its spade stroking Warren chest and tipping his nipple.  
"You are such a...showman."  
Warren smiles to himself. Well, it's a very specific kind of a show, very intimate, very luxury one might say, when in moments such as this one, he shamelessly exposes in front of Kurt his desire, his willingness, his eagerness.  
He realizes very well, that Kurt doesn't touch him in fact. He just stands still, with his hand rested on Warren's penis and it's the blond who is moving, searching desperately for the pleasant rub. His moan gets painfully desperate as well, and moreover full of protest, when Kurt suddenly backs off.  
"So show me."  
Warren slowly turns around, trembling from unfulfillment.  
The tail's spade slips behind his belt and pulls Warren closer, slowly yet inevitably. And he follows obediently, looking staight at Kurt's face, the fire burning in red eyes, his lips parted, showing sharp teeth, purple flush on his cheeks... He doesn't know it and surely doesn't intend to, but there is something predatory in him right now, which makes Warren's mouth dry.  
There are only few steps left between them, when Warren stops and then slowly goes on his knees, not averting his eyes from Kurt's even for a moment, when he reaches to the belt.  
The buckle's click feels almost like a caress.  
Warren can see Kurt's tongue moistening swiftly his lips, when he unzips the pants, unbearably slowly, though it seems like a torture, because what he would like to do the most is to touch himself there with the full hand, not only the tips of his fingers...  
He gasps, when the tail comes back to him and wraps around his tigh in a gesture that speaks more about Kurt's state and desire than million words.  
Warren slips his fingers under the tight yet elastic fabric and pulls it down.  
This time it's Kurt who gasps, when Warren can only bite on his lip, feeling a sudden wave of heat embracing his whole body, as a contrast to the coolness of the air he can sense on his bared, exposed arousal. He looks back at Kurt and almost shivers under the stare of the hazy eyes, fixed on his nakedness from under the sensually lowered eyelids.  
He's dying to touch himself yet he waits. He somehow likes to refrain himself as long as he manages and let Kurt do it first, to choose the right moment. So for now he just lets him watch.  
The strong grip around his leg finally loosens and Warren closes his eyes in anticipation, breathing heavily as the tail wanders up, along the inner side of the blond's tigh. He arches himself shamelessly and lets out an anguish whimper when the tail simply passes by and slithers higher, over his stomach, chest, neck...  
The tip of the spade touches his lower lip and Warren can feel it twiching, tickled by his warm breath. It slips inside, just a little bit, encouraging Warren to open up his mouth and nudge it with a quick lick.  
But it's Kurt's ecstatic moan that finally makes him grab the tail and suck on the spade, taking it into the warm, wet inside of his mouth as the other man lets out a muffled scream, staggers and latches desperately onto the chair's back.  
The wriggling feeling of the spade playing with his tongue sets Warren's body and mind on fire and his cock is so painfully hard, that he thinks he cannot stand it anymore, but in the exact moment, Kurt's tail bends and brushes against it. Warren moan is stifled as he thrusts his hips searching for more of that relieving touch, realizing vaguely, how he must look, naked, except the collar on his neck, kneeling, eagerly sucking on and rubbing against Kurt's tail, with his wings spread wide and trembling.  
The answer comes soon.  
The spade escapes Warren's mouth, making him whimper with dissatisfaction, but Kurt slips it under his collar this time and drags him closer. And closer. So close, that Warren finds himself just in front of Kurt, who in the meantime got rid of his shirt and Warren faces his flat, muscular stomach and the back of his hand disappearing inside his already unbuttoned pants.  
Kurt slowly takes out the hand in a clearly inviting gesture.  
Warren latches onto him in an almost ravenous way, pulling down his clothes and cluthing his hips in a strong grip, his forearms along the blue, firm tighs. Warren simply cannot get enough of this slim, strong body and how its fitness is visible in every single muscle.  
He quickly licks his lips, seeing Kurt's erection and then draws it into his mouth with a satisfied, almost relieved sigh, hearing Kurt inhaling abruptly. And then he does exactly the same, because suddenly he can feel the tail reaching from behind, slithering between his buttocks, the spade still wet from his own saliva.  
He moans on Kurt's penis, clenching his fingers almost painfully on his body and hitting something with one wing, while uncontrollably stretching them out, as the very tip of the spade finds its way to his entrance, encircling it slowly and then gently pushing in.  
Warren is a hot shivering mess, when he spreads his knees, as wide as the lowered pants let him, and bucks his hips farer and higher, opening at the delicate but tenacious caresses of the tail, rubbing and pushing into him, with every move a little deeper and he's not sure if he'd rather bless or curse Kurt's carefulness.  
At the same time, though only he knows how damn difficult it is, he tries to keep his attention divided and preserve the rhythm of sucking, especially that he can feel how Kurt's hand tightens on the nape of his neck and then tangles in his hair, pulling slightly. Warren knows that Kurt doesn't do it on purpose but it's enough for him to imagine the sharp claws among his golden locks to go absolutely wild, especially hearing the guttural moans and purrs made by Kurt.  
He moves away a little, turning the sucking into the soft licks and kisses, and looks up at his lover.  
Kurt responds to the change, letting out a frustrated moan.  
"You are really brave to provoke a devil," he pants out.  
His skin is adorably purpled, he breathes through his parted mouth and the ecstatic expression on his face, which makes him bare his teeth a little, gives it somehow demonic look indeed.  
"You're an angel, baby," Warren gives another slow lick on the lower side of Kurt's cock to finish it with planting a kiss on the tip. "Because only an angel can be allowed to fuck another angel."  
The red eyes glow at the suggestion and Warren can only hope it's going to work, because he's on the verge. His erection is pulsating painfully when he simply craves for a touch and the way the tail fidgets only turns him on more and more, as he rocks his hips, trying to push himself at the teasing spade.  
He can see Kurt reaching to the drawer and searching something frantically inside, until he finally gets out a bottle of lube.  
Warren feels torn between the relief of what's to come and a tormenting frustration, when the tail suddenly leaves him again. But, of course, Kurt would rather die than do him the slightest harm.  
He squeezes his eyes and leans his forehead on Kurt's tigh, waiting willingly and helplessly. A thought crosses his mind unexpectedly, that he probably has never felt belonging to Kurt so much before.  
It's particularly a sob that leaves his mouth, when he can feel a wet, sticky spade coming back inside him, going in deeper and easier than before, and he simply can't wait anymore, he reaches between his legs and closes his hand around his swollen, dripping erection.  
The bloodrush going through his body makes him dizzy and trembling, as the bliss of being locked between his hand and the tip of Kurt's tail inside, becomes hard to endure. He feels he's getting really close, when suddenly Kurt grabs him and in the next second they're on the bed together.  
Warren lets himself to be pushed down on his stomach and he melts inside at the feeling of Kurt lying down on the top of him, his hot skin finally so close and soft kisses planted on Warren's neck. And then Kurt's erection presses suggestively against his ass so he almost intuitively spreads his legs and lifts his hips up.  
All he is capable of is to pull his head back in a voiceless gasp, overcome by delight, when slowly Kurt enters him and at the same time reaches beneath him, and finally it's his hand giving Warren pleasure, as he submits himself to Kurt completely, all his, forever his, anywhere and anyhow...  
Kurt's hot breath sweeps over Warren wet skin, when he kisses his back on this sensitive place between the blades and then buries his face in the feathers. His thrusts become harder and deeper and his groans get interrupted by almost incomprehensible whispers.  
_"Engel... Mein schöner Engel... Mein, mein, immer mein...,"_ it's all that Warren can understand and it's enough to make him come, a heatwave of delight rushing through his whole body, to the very tips of his wings. He arches back, all his muscles tightening up, and he immediately senses Kurt stiffening in rapture, his moves getting longer and slower.  
They both can't calm down their breaths for a really long time.  
After a while, Kurt gets up with difficulty and Warren is ready to protest at that unexpected lack of his closeness, but then he can feel him slipping under Warren's arm to lay down face to face with him.  
Warren lifts his eyelids, which suddenly seems to be very difficult as well, and looks at the other man. Kurt's cheeks are still slightly purple, his hair a mess with a single feather tangled between the wisps. A sight, that immediately brings Warren enough strength to move closer and kiss off the dreamy smile wandering on these tempting lips.  
Kurt purrs blissfuly, giving in to the sweet laziness of the kiss.  
"Well. You will be late for the concert, I'm afraid," he notices when they part, with an almost innocent voice.  
"Yeah," Warren mutters, already half asleep, but he manages to pull Kurt a little closer to hold him tight and cover them both with his wing. "But I guess, you happen to be more my type than the music."


End file.
